Jokes Gone Wrong
by GallonsoftheStuff
Summary: Ron asks the Twins to send him some chocolates for his darling Lav-Lav's Valentine's Day gift. They do - only they send the wrong sort of chocolates. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Lavender feels like sharing her candy with her friends. [Snape/femHarry, Dramione, and Neville/Daphne. (To be clear, NOT AN ORGY.) Smut. Smidge of possible plot. Mostly shamelessness.]
1. An Encounter with Snape

**A/N: So this is shameless Snape and fem!Harry smut. Shameless. Smut. Because the idea would not leave me alone and once I started I had to finish otherwise I would just keep going back to it instead of writing what I should be writing, so I had to finish, okay?**

 **I DON'T WRITE SMUT. I DON'T DO IT.**

 **(Or at least I don't on a regular basis.)**

 **SO THIS PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I HAD TO GET IT OUT. HAD TO.**

 **So here. Have a few thousand words of smut with a little plot and lazy writing, lots of lazy writing. And no editing, cause I'm not ready to read it over again looking for stuff.**

 **(Oh, and there's totally an explanation for why Harry's name is still the same, even though it's fem!Harry. I'm not gonna give it to you, but just so you know - yeah, there's an explanation. :D)**

 ***listens* Oh, right, and there's fluff too. Fluffy wuffy smutty goodness. Little bit of angst. A couple - or a few - other pairings in the 'drabbles' following the main piece of the fic. I'm such a sucker for 'random' pairings.**

* * *

Severus Snape was having a quiet evening. There were no detentions for him to oversee, he was not on the roster to patrol tonight, and he was nearly finished with grading the fifth-year essays that had been due today (most of which were abysmal, but what can one expect when the class had lacked any sort of continuity for years). Barring interruptions, he could be finished within the next half-hour and retire early – a rare enough occurrence that he was actually looking forward to it.

Of course, since he was looking forward to it, the universe _had_ to throw a wrench in his idle plans.

Just as he was scratching out a D at the top of the latest essay – it truly deserved the Dreadful – there was a knock at his door, weak at first, faint enough that he barely heard it, but quickly gaining strength until whoever was on the other side of the door was practically pounding on it. Immediately irritated, the current Defense against the Dark Arts professor stood, striding quickly across his office space, and yanked open the door to see who it was with every intent of telling them to bugger off – in a coolly professional manner, of course.

The biting remark died a quiet death unspoken on the tip of his tongue when he saw who had just been pounding on the other side of his door – Harry Potter, her short black hair even more disheveled than usual, her glasses slightly crooked on her face, her green, green eyes ( _Lily's eyes on Lily's face, topped with James Potter's thrice-be-damned hair and obscured by those **hideous** glasses_ ) wide and not-quite-focused as she stared up at him.

"Miss Potter," he said, his voice dripping disdain, though he was more than a little confused by her appearance at his door. "I cannot imagine what possible reason you have for banging on _my_ door at this hour, but–"

"Professor!" she gasped, and now Severus noted the way she was panting, the sheen of sweat on her face that made her messy hair stick to her forehead, the way her limbs trembled as her eyes finally focused on him – something was wrong, something was very wrong. "I – I'm sorry, but… your office – it was closer than Slughorn's or – or the infirmary – and I hoped…" Potter's face took on a look of desperation he did not like, at the same time a spasm seemed to go through her, making her gasp and close her eyes before snapping them open again. " _Please_ , I need your help."

Severus did not hesitate to yank her inside and shut the door quickly behind her, wand already flicking diagnostic spells at her without result – no Dark magic turned up, no hexes or curses, no poisons. Not even a cold, though her temperature and heart-rate were elevated, her breathing irregular.

"What happened, Potter?" he demanded, circling to stand in front of her again, searching for some clue of what was going on, but finding no more than he had already noted. Her eyes had closed once more, her arms wrapped around her torso, and he could see her teeth biting down forcibly on her bottom lip – there was also an odd, faintly floral scent about her, one he could not immediately identify, but that seemed familiar. _Is she wearing some sort of perfume?_ Severus thought vaguely.

"I ate a chocolate," she blurted.

"What?"

"Ron gave Lavender chocolates for Valentine's and Lavender gave some of them to us – but I think they were laced with something, because now I'm – I'm…" She was talking much faster than Severus had ever heard her speak, making it difficult to follow – and was it just him, or was that scent getting stronger? It was more than distracting, not just because he was sure he should know it, but because it was taking his thoughts in a completely inappropriate direction ( _sweat and naked skin, pleasure, moaning and slick, tight heat_ ) when he should have been focusing on what was wrong with Potter and getting her out of his office as quickly as possible.

"You are _what_ , Miss Potter?" he questioned, his voice sharp as he tried to focus his thoughts, but that damned _odor_ , it felt like it was coiling through his very brain matter, making things foggy and heated ( _desire and whimpers, open-mouthed kisses, languid and slow_ ).

He watched her eyes snap open, pupils dilated, and her lips part, teeth giving up their hold, her whole body seeming to relax, as if the fight had gone out of her.

"I'm _horny_."

Severus had less than half-a-second to register what she had said and had not managed to sort out his disbelief before Potter acted, one hand grabbing his collar and yanking his mouth down to hers while the other wrapped around the back of his neck to hold him, her entire body arched into his.

In the second after she had pulled their mouths together, a very detached, very clinical part of him finally noted why the smell surrounding her was familiar – recognizing the scent of a particularly powerful Lust potion. One that was just barely legal, and then only if it was used by the brewer and/or _willing_ partners. It was not to be used in public, due to a peculiar property that allowed the potion's effects – intense sexual desire to the point of being nearly unable to restrain oneself, increased stamina, and heightened physical pleasure – to pass on to more than one person through contact. The scent the drinker gave off made others more susceptible and open to the idea of sex, but the best way to 'spread the Lust' was through an exchange of fluids – like the way Potter was kissing him now, her tongue in his mouth tasting like the tainted chocolate she must have eaten.

That same detached, clinical part of him remembered, without a hint of emotion, that he did not have an antidote for this potion on hand. Nor, now that he had gotten the girl's saliva in his mouth, would he likely be able to think clearly enough and control himself _long_ enough to make one – the brewing process was rather involved and would take more than an hour. So the detached, clinical part of him declared that any plans of retiring early were now completely out the window, as the potion's effects were likely to last until the early hours of the morning. _And_ that he would instead almost certainly spend the next several hours fucking the daughter of a man he hated and the woman he loved, someone who was his _student_.

In short, Severus Snape was rather screwed (or soon would be, a dark sense of humor added).

For the moment, he managed to fight the potion, pulling his lips away from Potter's and attempting to explain, even as he fought to hold her away from him, when the magic _already_ demanded he pull her close.

"I do not have an antidote," he started, but unfortunately, whatever control she had seemed to have been used up in getting to the closest teacher's office and telling him what she could – she tried to pull his mouth back to hers before he had even finished the third word, making a sound of frustration when he did not cooperate. She seemed not the least mollified when he gave up trying to hold her off in favor of letting his arms wrap around her ( _Merlin_ , that potion worked _fast_ ).

"Slughorn might have one, but now that the – Potter, _pay attention_ , dammit!" But his own thin self-restraint was fraying, particularly since she had given up on his lips and was trying to pull open his robes, her mouth sucking on his neck the most distracting thing he could ever recall happening to him – not that he could recall much with the potion's effects fogging his mind. He had heard one could remain somewhat clear-headed while under the influence of the potion – as much as any human can stay coherent during sex, the really _good_ kind – if one did not fight it. But the more it was fought, the more it clouded the mind, until one's body was acting on little more than instinct and libido.

Snarling curses under his breath in frustration, Severus snatched her hands away from his robes and backed her swiftly against the door, shoving a knee between her legs and using his body to hold her there. He pinned her hands down by her sides, but that did little – she moaned as his thigh brushed the apex of her thighs, somehow using their positions to grind against him, stroking herself with his leg. There was a tiny moment where he thought about trying to stop her, but it passed quickly by as he considered that perhaps an orgasm would clear her head long enough for him to explain the situation. Had that not been the way to reverse some of the mind-altering effects of the potion, in lieu of giving in?

At this point, Severus was not sure he particularly cared – Potter's face was filled with pleasure and strain as she sought her own pleasure, her body moving frantically over his leg, and all he could think about was helping her get what she wanted.

His hands left hers, gripping her hips instead and pushing his knee hard into her gyrating motions. Hers settled on his arms as leverage, her athleticism showing in the way she twisted and pushed, driving herself higher if the moans she let out were any indication. Severus knew he was supposed to be helping her with this because it would allow her to listen to him, give him a chance to explain, but… well, he had already thought the potion acted quickly. Most of his thoughts _now_ were on just how much he wanted to see her _come_.

To watch the bliss break over her face, to know if she kept her eyes closed when she came, or if they would fly open, if she would look at him while her body ignited, her green eyes dark with passion. He very much wanted to see that now, so badly he could practically taste it, and when her hips stuttered, the beginnings of the end sweeping over her, one of his hands left her hip to grip her jaw, the other shifting, seeking her clit through her clothing, relying on her grip on his arms and his knee to hold her in place.

"Look at me," he demanded, ordered, and those green eyes opened – yes, _yes_ , he had imagined the color exactly right, just that perfect shade of green, the expression one he had never gotten to see in Lily's, but that was alright, he could see it now. Their gazes locked, her frantic movements halted as he rubbed her with his hand, somehow finding the exact right spot despite the fabric in the way, and Severus felt triumphant as the orgasm crashed over her, her lips parted around a high, long moan that was just this side of a scream. He kept stroking her, easing her through the rest of her climax, wishing he could feel her wetness coating his fingers, his cock, and wondering – why weren't they naked doing this?

At least, until some sense returned to her gaze and the flush of her cheeks denoted embarrassment instead of desire, even if the desire did not fade entirely – _that_ was why. This was the effects of a _potion_. This was not _real_.

Grimacing at himself, he pulled his hands away from her crotch and face, lowering his leg, though he could not quite make himself step away – not with the potion still in effect. Even if her climax had granted them a few minutes reprieve from the mindless desire it would force on them, they were both still very much under its influence. "Better?" he asked, and felt – almost – a little bad for the question when her face turned as scarlet as her house color and her eyes cut away from his.

"A little."

"It won't last."

He almost snorted at the horrified look she shot him, though it stung a little, for reasons he would rather not look at – there were more important things to think about.

"Do you have…" she started, trailing off.

"No. Nor can I make one." Another grimace crossed his face. "Slughorn might have something, but we cannot risk going to him and infecting him as well."

"Wha – what? _Infecting_ him?" As confused as she looked, she appeared equally aghast and disgusted, and Severus felt a similar distaste for the idea of the rotund professor feeling anything like the two of them at the moment. It was enough to dampen the potion's influence further, however briefly.

"Lust potion. One meant to spread from the drinker to others through scent and fluid exchange. You infected me when you kissed me."

Potter almost cringed at his words, and her response seemed almost automatic, "I'm sorry," before she paused and then raised her eyes to his again. "How long… how long does it last?"

"A good batch will last for hours. Given that you… _jumped_ me almost as soon as you were in the room, and I am… rather affected now, I would say this is a good batch." She was cringing again, and Severus wanted to snap at her for some reason – yes, it was hardly a desirable situation, but did she have to show her horror at being stuck in it with him so plainly? It was not like he had been actively hostile toward her in the past six years – he had done his best to ignore her almost entirely, beyond what he had to do as her teacher and one of her protectors. (The fact that he was taking her reactions so personally should have made him wonder, but for the moment, it did not.)

"Do you think we could get to the infirmary? Floo, maybe…?" But he was shaking his head before she finished the last word, having already thought the consequences through.

"The magic of the Floo will aggravate the influence of the potion – I have no idea who is in the infirmary at the moment, but I do not fancy…" he elected not to finish that thought, shuddering at the possibilities. "Just no. Walking through the halls is also out. We're stuck here until it wears off, Potter."

Another cringe – really, he was going to get a complex. He wasn't _that_ unattractive or horrible, was he? Away from the poor brewing habits of students every day, he knew his appearance had improved somewhat – his hair actually stayed clean when he washed it and his skin was not so sallow, though he remained pale.

He may not have been a pleasant teacher, but he thought of himself as no worse than Minerva, if a little less tactful – but really, what was the point of sparing someone's feelings when they were so clearly not up to the task set in front of them? Potter was actually rather good at potions, and excellent at Defense – he may not have praised her, but he certainly was not insulting to the girl either.

Girl. Woman? She most definitely did not feel like a mere girl when she had been pressed up against him, moaning in his ear as he, ahem, _assisted her to completion_. No; Potter had curves in all the right places now, her body soft and supple. He wondered what that body looked like when it wasn't wrapped in robes or Muggle clothing. _The potion's influence_ , he realized, as she started speaking again.

"It's… are we going to… will it… make us…" Her cheeks were again bright, embarrassed – likely mortified – at what she was trying to ask. Severus did not bother to suppress his sigh.

"Resisting it will work for a while, but as I'm sure you experienced on your way here, the potion cuts down on your resistance until you act on what it is making you feel. So, if what you are trying to ask is 'is this potion going to make us have sex?' then I have to say that the answer is yes. Most likely, we will have sex. More than once."

"Oh."

They were silent for a moment, Potter looking down and to the right of him, Severus staring at the door over her head, an inner monologue of irritation occupying his mind between thoughts originating from the potion. When he glanced down, he caught her biting her lip, her brow furrowed in an expression of distress, and sighed again, trying not to let his irrational irritation at her upset show.

"I am sorry, Potter, that this has happened. I'm sure there are others you would much rather be stuck in this situation with."

She looked up sharply, seeming startled, and – if such a thing were possible – appeared to be even _more_ embarrassed, judging by the stain of color across her cheekbones. Almost immediately, she looked away again.

"I – no, actually," she mumbled just low enough that Severus was almost certain he had heard her wrong.

"Speak clearly, Potter," he said, a bit derisively – probably because of all those unpleasant thoughts in his head. "The potion does not affect the use of your vocal cords."

Her green eyes flashed with ire as she once again glanced up at him, her expression reminding him intensely of how Lily looked when she was angry with him in the past. It made him want to kiss her, just like it had used to make him want to kiss her mother. Merlin, he knew he had the potion to excuse his thoughts and actions, but that did not stop him from feeling like a creep, lusting after Lily's daughter. Her _sixteen-year-old_ daughter.

"I _said_ 'no, actually'. Anyone else would be… it would just be worse." She cut her eyes downward and to the left of him, but her features took on a mulish cast that was a bit at odds with the blush.

"Worse," Severus repeated, his voice carrying a wealth of meaning, most of it negative, and again those eyes snapped at him.

"It would be hideously awkward if it happened with one of my friends – _any_ other student really, and I shudder to think of what could have happened if I had run into _Malfoy_ – and it's not like I fancy any of the staff, but out of everyone, you…" Her defiant courage faltered, but she seemed to rally quickly, straightening her spine and lifting her chin to meet his gaze squarely, finishing, "I think you are the best possible person I could have ended up like this with."

For a long moment, Severus was again at a loss for words. But then, was there anything he _could_ say to that? It was not some ringing endorsement, but it was not exactly insulting either.

Really, though, the potion's effects seemed to be ramping up again – his thoughts had turned to the way his dick was aching unpleasantly, and those that were not about relieving that pressure were about Harry Potter and how much he wanted to put his hands on her again. Which sort of served the purpose of easing his extreme state of desire, so they were all the same thoughts in reality.

"For the record," he managed, stringing together what might be his last coherent thought for a while as he cupped her face in his hands and tilted it to get a better angle, suppressing a smirk at the startled widening of her eyes at his touch. "You are also the least objectionable person in my mind." Then he fit his lips over hers, uncaring how she might have responded because _this_ – _this_ was delicious and exactly what he wanted – no, _needed_ now.

Her fingers curled into his hair, holding his mouth to hers as her lips parted and she nipped at his, sucking away the sting before he could object. He could have, still, but then again, now that her mouth was open…

Severus was surprised to learn that Harry Potter was a rather _exceptional_ kisser, especially considering her age – he almost could have wondered what she had been getting up to, if not for the potion. As it was, he was focused on those hot, toe-curling kisses, and the feel of Harry's fingers – clumsy, which might have been reassuring, _if_ he had been thinking about it, in comparison to how well she kissed – working to divest him of his clothing, even as he did the same.

Thank Merlin for robes. Wizarding garments were so much easier to remove than Muggle. In a matter of moments, he had his hands on bare skin, smooth and soft, and seconds later, her naked – or nearly, as he had not managed to get her bra or knickers off yet – body was pressed up against his equally stripped flesh.

Little moans drifted from her lips to his, teased from her by his exploring hands while he reveled in the feel of her body. Lithe, supple and strong – her athletic inclinations improving on nature's design for her. He wanted to get a look at her, see if she was as beautiful as his fingers found her, but it was a secondary desire compared to how he enjoyed the taste of her mouth.

That inkling of a thought led to another desire that swamped the others entirely – if her mouth was this good, how did the rest of her taste? Severus pulled them both away from the door, some still intelligent part of him casting locking and silencing spells on the room before he slid his hands to Potter's thighs and picked the girl up – Merlin, she was light; didn't she eat? But the thought was gone before he could contemplate it as he set Potter on his desk and finally pulled his lips from hers, catching another glimpse of her passion darkened eyes and those _damn_ glasses. In a quick but careful motion – he did not want to have the wire frame scraping her face – he snatched them off, folded them, and set the hateful things aside, wishing he could just toss them in the fire, but she _did_ need them to see. Unfortunately.

There was half a thought in his head that he ought to look into spells and potions that could permanently fix her vision, just so he did not have to see the things blocking her eyes again. It went up in a puff of smoke when she pulled him back in for more kissing.

His original intent in changing their positions was momentarily lost as her hands started to wander – down his chest and stomach, a caress that made him shiver, before eventually slipping into his waist band. When her fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock, Severus let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and pulling his lips from hers at the surprisingly intense wave of pleasure he felt at that simple touch.

Potion, he reminded himself. Most of this was the potion.

Potter – _Harry_ , he might as well call her by her given name, considering their position, at least for tonight – peppered feather-light kisses along his jaw while her hand moved over him, stroking inexpertly but with shocking effectiveness up and down and around his hardened length.

A low groan escaped him when her fingers explored the head, and her touch faltered, uncertainty radiating off the young woman. His hands flexed where they held her hips, waiting for her to continue – but her hand remained frustratingly still, her breath ghosting across the skin of his shoulder, where she had paused in her trail of kisses.

Severus gave her to a mental count of three before he gave up and put his own hand into his pants, taking hers and guiding it over his dick to show her exactly how he liked to be touched. Just the right pressure, in just the right places that made him suck in his breath and caused shivers to run down his spine. Harder there, light just there, a little twist at the end of the stroke… _yes, yes, just like that, Merlin, don't stop_.

Maybe it was some natural ability to pick up on physical things quickly; maybe she was just really good with her hands. For whatever reason, Severus was soon bucking into her touch, his own hand having fallen to grip the desk when she seemed confident again, shuddering and gasping, caught unprepared by the sudden, unexpected _force_ of his orgasm, just as he had been by that first caress.

Potter – _Harry_ – kept stroking as he came, more lightly now that he was not encouraging a firmer touch, smearing his cock with his own fluids. When she brushed the over-sensitized head, Severus jerked again, sucking in a breath and pulling her hand away before she killed him.

He could attest with utter certainty to the whole 'heightened pleasure' aspect of the potion.

Taking slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm the rapid beat of his heart, he raised his head to gauge _her_ reaction. Still flushed – though now he could not quite tell if it was embarrassment or arousal – and her eyes were once again averted from his, though not so clearly out of awkwardness, as her gaze was on the hand he had pulled from his cock and the come that was likely making her fingers sticky.

Almost, he thought she would bring the digits to her mouth and suck them clean – he watched her hungrily, wanting her to, very nearly demanding she do it in his sudden and intense desire to see her taste his come – but the moment was lost when she instead wiped her hand along her thigh, getting the majority of the substance off.

Severus nearly sighed in disappointment, but her motion did provide him with a distraction, pulling his eyes to finally take in the sight of her barely-clothed body. Her skin was mostly pale, but for those areas that saw the sun with some regularity – Quidditch, he thought idly, was good for that sort of thing, whereas potion-making did not lend itself to tanning – smooth and tight as it should be at her age, with the occasional freckle marring her arms and shoulders. Her hips were not full and round – she had always been, and perhaps always would be, on the thin side – but Severus liked the shape of them, and the way they tapered into her long legs appealed to him immensely. Her breasts – not large, but not small either – would likely be a comfortable handful.

A faint smirk pulled his lips up when his gaze fell on her undergarments – plain cotton knickers in an unassuming blue, mismatched with an equally plain and functional white bra. He could not, for the life of him, imagine Petunia taking her niece shopping for underwear – the woman still wanted to thrust her walrus of a son's clothing on her – but the other explanations of where the set came from made him want to laugh. Molly Weasley would certainly suggest something modest, and Hermione Granger practically screamed no-nonsense and function over anything else. There was almost no doubt in his mind that those two influenced the conservative unmentionables Harry wore.

"What?" Her voice startled him out of his private amusement, and the suspicious look on her face made a chuckle slip out before he shook his head.

"Nothing." Her countenance shifted almost immediately to an argumentative expression – her quick temper could have been from either from her mother or her father, but for the moment, Severus decided to attribute it to Lily – and to avoid a discussion of why her bra and knickers amused him, he took her lips, pulling her body in close again. As distractions went, it was rather effective, if the swiftness that she embraced and kissed him back was any indication.

His dick, which had not fully lost its erection, was hard again by the time he pulled away – Harry _moaned_ , and it was utterly delectable, a sound he would not have minded recording so he could listen to it over and over again when he had the time to properly enjoy its effects. He paid little attention to his own state of arousal – he had finally recalled the thought that had led him to set her atop his desk and wished to act on it.

Catching her eye, he almost smirked at the mix of aggravation and desire in the green depths – so the little chit did not like it when he stopped kissing her? He would have to teach her that it only meant good things. ( _For tonight. Just for tonight_ , he reminded himself. It was not right to do this with Lily's child.)

His lips trailed after the fingers of his right hand as he moved them across her shoulder, pushing her bra strap aside, teeth occasionally nibbling at her flesh, his tongue darting across the skin where he bit a little harder. Almost like a reward for his actions – or maybe a guard against his plans, he thought as he worked to divest her of her bra – she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in closer and rubbing her panty-clad pussy against his still irritatingly covered cock. As his own reward – or retaliation – for _her_ , when the bra fell to the floor beside the desk, Severus quickly caught one nipple between his fingers, the other sucked into his mouth, and pinched one at the same time he nipped the other.

Her yelp brought a smirk fully onto his lips for a moment before he let himself get back to the simpler pleasure of just tasting her – tracing around her peak with his tongue, sucking and adding lighter nips to make her jerk and _moan_. Merlin, he needed to bottle that sound – was it as effective without a lust potion driving him? It was probably the potion, but he thought it would.

And the _taste_ of her! It had to be the potion, because her _skin_ tasted like strawberries and cream, like her mouth had tasted of chocolate, only without the rational explanation. Severus was rather fond of strawberries and cream… did her sex taste the same? Or would it have another flavor entirely?

She was soaked – he could feel her juices saturating the fabric that separated him from her, the wetness spreading with the ever increasing pace of her rolling hips. Part because of the thought of how aroused she was (but mostly because of how it felt, the friction of damp cloth and the heat of her dragging over his cock) he groaned, his hands falling again to her waist and pulling her harder against him, guiding her for their mutual benefit.

"Fuck," he breathed, thrusting into the undulation of her body, feeling the bite of her nails on the skin of his sides, and she made a mewling sound, one that felt like it had the potential to drive him crazy.

"Professor," she gasped, moaned, keened – he didn't know a word for the way she said the title, but it nearly sent him over the edge, his hands gripping her with bruising force. Panting, Severus held her still for a moment, ignoring the way she pulled at him and twisted in his grip, trying to resume their frantic grinding.

"Dammit!" she snapped at him when he would not let her, practically squirming, and he found himself smiling a little at her ire. "I was almost there! Why'd you stop?" She almost sounded petulant, voice full of complaint, which only served to increase the feeling of amusement he felt, which was completely at odds with the way his body utterly agreed with her – they had almost come, and then he had to pull back, for stupid _sensibilities_.

With more casualness than he felt, Severus slowly arched a brow, responding in the smoothest voice he could muster (mentally congratulating himself when it came out almost as coolly as he might have spoken in a classroom). "You will call me by my name, _Harry_. For tonight, I am not your professor."

The irritation dripped from her expression as he spoke, leaving her gazing at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, a little shiver moving from her body to his when he said her name. A smirk pulled his lips up, and her gaze dropped to his lips for a moment, her tongue darted out to wet hers, seemingly unconsciously, before snapping her mouth closed and darting her eyes back to his. She nodded firmly in response, and then, more tentatively than she probably wanted, given how confident she had tried to make her agreement, said, "Alright… Severus?"

It made his smirk widen – he liked that even more than he had unintentionally enjoyed her calling him 'professor' just as she had been about to come. "Good." He was sure he looked positively devilish as he paused. Then said, very deliberately, "Harry." Was it wrong to like the way she trembled so much? Ah, no matter – it was just the potion anyway.

Fighting the urge to clear his throat at that somewhat awkward thought, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her knickers, ordering lightly, "Lift up," as he pulled them down. The sight of her teeth catching her bottom lip and the fresh stain of red across her cheeks made him think she wouldn't do it, but with minimal hesitation, she did as he told her, bracing her hands on the desk, and in an anticlimactic motion accompanied by the soft sound of her underwear hitting the stone floor, Severus Snape took in a sight he would never have even thought to see.

One Harry James Potter, sitting stark naked on his desk. For long seconds, he simply stared at her, drinking in her flushed cheeks, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, and the naked skin of her bared pussy. Then, with a faint quirk of brow and lip, the professor ran his fingers back up her legs and just over the top of her mons. "Shaving, Harry?"

Even as she shivered at the name and the touch, her cheeks grew darker and she glanced away, her hands still flat on the desk. "Lavender…" she mumbled, "found a spell. I was the only one who would let her test it out." Her gaze shifted down her body, to where his fingers rested lightly between her pelvis and her belly button. "Obviously, it works."

"Ah," Severus couldn't help his chuckle, but the flashing temper in her eyes died quickly to surprise as he went to his knees before her, grabbing a roll of blank parchment and transfiguring it into a cushion as he did.

"What are you doing?" The way she almost squeaked the words made it hard to hold back more amusement – rather, he gave up on the exercise and laughed again.

"Lay back and relax," he suggested, resting the flat of his palm on her sternum and applying just a little pressure – encouraging, but not ordering this time. "I'm told I'm rather good at this."

He caught sight of her teeth on her bottom lip again, and then she slowly let herself down on her elbows instead of her hands. As he slid his palms to her thighs, pulling them apart so that her center was completely open to him, he could feel the tension in her muscles. In an act meant to reassure as much as it aroused, Severus pressed his lips lightly to her inner thighs, feathering kisses to either side while moving steadily closer to her dripping cunt – but abstaining from actually tasting what he wanted so badly.

Driving Harry mad with want was just a little more satisfying than indulging himself. Hearing her beg for what she looked so nervous about would be a sweet victory.

He kissed, licked and nibbled his way up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, listening to her fight a failing battle for control over her breathing, and when he reached the crease where her inner thigh joined the rest of her body, he switched to the other side, beginning the journey over again. Small gasps for air shifted to little whimpers when he avoided the place that was dripping wet ( _for him but not for him, just the potion, and he would not look at how that disappointed something in him_ ), making him smirk against her skin. By the time he once again arrived at the apex of her thighs, Harry had begun to squirm. As he licked the line between leg and torso, he wondered what it would take for her to bury those talented fingers in his hair and try to force him where she wanted him – and she wanted him now, even if she had hesitated over the idea moments ago. He had a theory…

Severus, smirking, tested his hypothesis – first, he blew a stream of air at her drenched pussy, listening to her gasp and moan, and then he opened his mouth and bit down on the ligament between her leg and her pelvis. The quick shriek she unleashed, accompanied by the way she half sat up and grabbed his head, brought a grin to his face, the likes of which had not been seen in years. Glancing up into her slightly wild eyes, he watched her surprise with that same grin, laughing a little.

"Was there something you wanted, Harry?" He hadn't felt this mischievous since before his falling out with Lily – mild-altering substance though it may be, the potion had many perks.

Her face went crimson again, but she seemed to sense what he wanted. Licking her lips, she tried, "I… want you to…"

"Yes?" Severus leaned his head forward, enjoying the way the gesture pulled her fingers through his hair, along his scalp – he felt rather like he ought to be compared to a dog should he admit it, but the Potions-Master-cum-Defense-professor loved the feeling of fingers rubbing against his scalp. It was a pity that his hair had not been easily cleaned for so many years – few wanted to run their fingers through it in its typical state during that time.

"Kiss me." It should not have been possible, but it looked as if her cheeks got even redder. "There." One hand left his head to make an ambiguous gesture at her nether regions, then tentatively slid back into his hair, fingers flexing slightly. "Please." The last was shaky, but since Severus had not had to ask for it, the plea was ever more satisfying than he had anticipated.

He did not have to be asked twice before he hooked his elbows around her thighs, pulled her to the exact right spot to have her open and oh-so-easily-accessible, and buried his tongue in her sweet, wet, wonderful little cunt.

The way she screamed his name as her fingers tightened deliciously in his hair was like the cherry on top of an otherwise perfect sundae (for someone who loved cherries – otherwise, the analogy did not work). The fact that she tasted like strawberries here too? He did not think it could get better than this.

Only it did – it barely took seconds for her to start babbling incoherently, begging and demanding, praising and cursing him all in the same breath as she shuddered and gasped and pulled his face closer while her hips moved almost unconsciously to the rhythm his mouth set. Her taste – he could do this for an hour and still want more. So when her first orgasm rushed over her, less than a minute in, Severus decided he did not want to stop – he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked until she came again, then spent the next few minutes lapping up her juices, letting her cool down before he wound her up again. For the third, he went slowly – teasing her, drawing it out, until he made her come with an intensity that left her body sated and practically boneless.

Carefully, he pulled her off the desk and into his lap, loving the way her eyes were half closed, her lips parted, and the way she molded to him as he held her. There was always a certain amount of male pride involved in making a woman come – to do it so well she looked like Harry did at the moment? Well, Severus felt a tad bit like the cat who got the cream (pun intended).

He felt almost… affectionate as he brushed the damp hair back from her face, watching her eyes close and reveling a bit in the way she leaned into his hand, before he slanted his lips to hers. She kissed him back in the same way he had built her to the latest orgasm – languid and slow, until she interrupted them with a murmured comment against his lips.

"You taste like strawberries now." She sounded just a bit surprised, and he could not help the low chuckle that escaped him.

"That would be you."

"I taste like strawberries?" More surprise from her, leading to more amusement in him.

"And cream." He shrugged a little. "It's because of the potion."

"Oh. Is that why I keep tasting cantaloupe?"

Severus almost choked on his laughter at that. " _Cantaloupe_?"

Harry looked mildly offended. "I _like_ cantaloupe."

"And I like strawberries. That does not mean I cannot laugh at the idea that I taste like _cantaloupe_ to you." She actually smiled at that.

His cock got an almost unpleasant jolt as he wondered if he could convince her to suck it, based on the probable taste alone. The image of her lips wrapped around him, her green eyes smoldering as she took him deep in her mouth, even her throat, making him shift to alleviate the sudden pressure he felt in his groin.

Harry had lost the almost sleepy look, her eyes alert, and she noticed his shifting – could probably feel how hard he was through the last bit of his clothing, judging by the way she had flushed. Would she cease to be embarrassed by sex by the end of the night? Severus found himself hoping that she would not – the color looked rather fetching on her cheeks.

"So… er – I don't suppose your office connects to your chambers, does it, Pro- Severus?" Lips quirking the tiniest amount at her correction and the falsely-perky tone she used, he shook his head.

"Unfortunately, no. They are on another corridor entirely."

"Ah." She was biting her lip again, her brow furrowed in thought, but he was starting to have a hard time following where her mind might be going – the potion's effects once again getting to him. He did, however, retain the brain power to think to use passive Legilimency to try to figure it out. When he did, it was hard to hold back a chuckle, but he made an effort this time, thinking that laughing at these thoughts would be inappropriate.

"I can transfigure my desk into a bed, Harry." Or a mattress at least – he was a bit unsure he could hold the intent long enough to get a full bed out of it. A mattress would at least be better than the cold stone floor though – especially so, considering what she worried over was her status as a virgin. Having sex for the first time while under the influence of a lust potion was bad enough – add in their circumstances, and the least he could do was try to provide her with some damn creature comforts.

Her eyes jerked back to his, narrowed slightly – where his mind still touched hers, he could feel her throw up her clumsy Occlumency barriers as she realized what he had done – only to soften a moment later at something she saw there. He had retreated back to his own mind though, so he could not be certain what she saw when she looked at him and what she took from it.

Before he could reach for his wand and cast the necessary spell to transfigure his office furniture into bedroom furniture, Harry took his face in her hands and kissed him – slowly, but not lazily; she kissed him with intent and a barely leashed passion that had Severus groaning softly into her mouth and burying his fingers in her short black hair. She shifted to straddle his hips and leaned into him, pushing him back until he lay flat on the floor, stretched out under her.

He almost did not even notice it until she shifted again, her hands pulling down the undershorts he wore and freeing his erection. Stomach muscles jumping, Severus actually winced at the nearly painful way his cock stood at attention, only to wipe his expression clean when Harry pulled away to look at him. Her eyes – Merlin, he _loved_ that green – wandered over his face, then down his body until she was staring at where his dick jutted out from the rest of him. A part of him had to bite back a smirk when he noticed her teeth worrying her lip again, but the urge was smothered quickly when she looked up at him.

Because she seemed uncertain and maybe even a little scared, the latter being something he truly did not want. He reached up, combing his fingers through her hair, feeling unexpectedly tender toward her.

"What are you thinking, Harry?" he asked and was rewarded with a half-smile lightening the weight of her expression.

"Like you can't read my mind," she replied, her tone teasing rather than accusing. He shook his head, serious.

"I can, but I won't." A lazy grin crept up on him as he added. "Intoxication and Legilimency do no mix – even your shields could keep me out right now."

Warmth blossomed in his gut when she laughed and Severus pulled her down for another kiss. He intended to keep it brief because he had asked her a question and still wanted the answer, but what thoughts had been in his head were thrown out the metaphorical window as the kiss ended for other reasons.

Reasons such as her hand wrapped around his cock and guiding it to her slick, hot entrance. He gasped first, for the contact, and then Harry made a similar noise as the head slipped inside of her. Merlin, she was _tight_ , and along with the pleasure of that came a concerning thought – she had come four times, shouldn't that have loosened her up _some_? She was certainly wet enough, her slickness practically dripping from her, but was that enough? He was not a small man and… he did not want to hurt her. He should have used his fingers, prepared her more. But the head of his cock was in and she was slowly taking the rest, the expression her face unreadable with those green eyes closed and her lips just barely parted.

Severus could not speak, the rational part of his mind clouded out by the potion and the feeling of her body taking him in. It felt… it felt… it was indescribable, and all he could do was watch her. When half his length was in her, she paused, eyelids fluttering, her tongue darting out to wet her lips – then she sat back, bracing her hands against his stomach, and sank down the rest of the way, taking all of him at once. He watched her eyes pop open, her mouth forming a surprised O, and barely, just barely, restrained himself from thrusting up into that – _Merlin_ – hot, wet, taut passage. Instead he forced himself to wait, but how could a man wait long when his cock was buried deep in a cunt as perfect as hers?

"Harry…" he gritted out, his voice strained, after a moment or two of feeling her walls _flex_ around him – she was so tight, he could feel _everything_ – and her eyes gained focus again, locking on his. Severus saw her swallow, felt her start to fidget and then freeze at the hiss of sound that escaped him. At this rate, he would be lucky if he lasted another five seconds in her – and how was that for her first experience with a dick inside her? No, he was not going to do that.

"I… you… _so big_ …" she murmured. "So _full_." Severus did not wait for her to babble anything more – nor for her to move again and make him lose it. He gripped her thigh with one hand and slipped the other between her body and his, setting his fingers to her clit.

Immediately, her pussy clamped down around him and she gasped, her body jerking while her hands clenched against his abdomen. "Se – Sev-ah! – _Severus_!" Her eyes were wide, quickly losing the focus she had directed at him, and he felt an almost feral grin pull his lips up – right before his face twisted in pleasure as her body's tremors drew him after her into orgasm.

"Fuck!" Involuntarily, he thrust against her and she made a noise that could have been surprise or pain or pleasure. He was not sure he cared at the moment – there was only the hot feeling of his own climax in his cock and the even hotter sensation of her exquisite cunt and the friction between the two. And then he realized she was moving with him, grinding down onto him with little gasps and cries as her pussy clenched and trembled around him – prolonging their pleasure until they were slumped together, too sated to move.

Severus was aware of her weight on top of him – too light, much too light for her age and height – aware of her breath panting across his collarbone. Aware too, of his dick, still hard inside her, the mess leaking between them, and the need for a contraceptive charm. But for a long moment, he could not bring himself to move farther than necessary to continue breathing.

Eventually though, the cold of the stones seeped into his back, the sweat cooling on his skin, and he was forced into action. Sitting up, one arm holding Harry to him, he felt about on top of his desk with the other to find his wand. An economical wave of the magic stick later, the wooden office furniture was effectively a mattress covered with sheets, which Severus carefully rolled the two of them onto, making sure to roll far enough that she was once again on top of him. Another wave of his wand cast the necessary contraceptive spells and pulled the sheets over top of them.

Harry barely made a sound, other than a sharp intake of breath when he first sat up. When he bent his head to check on her, her head was turned to the side, cheek against his chest, and it looked like her eyes were closed. Temporarily exhausted, despite the potion's effects – just like him. A slight smile ticked at the corner of his mouth as he laid his head back and his forearm over his eyes to block out the light. They could rest a moment before the damn thing kicked back in.

Only a few moments passed in contented silence before he felt Harry shift, but he did not move until he felt her touch, light as a butterfly, the skin of his forearm – the exact spot it was marred by the Dark Mark. Discomfort crawling over his skin at the way she traced her fingers over it, he pulled his arm away and met her eyes – questioning, yet without the accusation he had thought for sure would be there. He did not wait for her to voice the question before shifting himself, forcing her to roll off him onto her side as he sat up once more.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, reaching for his discarded undershorts and sliding them back on. She did not answer immediately and he looked over his shoulder to see her pulling the sheets around herself, tucking it under her arms to cover her chest as she sat as well.

"Some pumpkin juice?"

Severus nodded, reaching for the cabinet by his desk – connected to the kitchens, it allowed food and drink to be summoned without having to call for the house elves. He poured a glass of the liquid and handed it to her, then took one for himself. They sat sipping, not looking at each other, until Harry handed back her glass. He placed them both back in the cabinet and shut it, then turned to the young woman on the mattress behind him. Her mouth opened, a question obviously on the tip of her tongue.

He silenced her with a kiss, keeping his lips on hers until she melted into him and he was sure she had forgotten whatever she had wanted to ask. Slowly, he pulled the sheet away from her, slipping under it as well, and let his hands wander lazily over her, idly bringing her pleasure. Though this time, he made sure to slide his fingers into her slick passage, massaging and preparing, and when she was dripping wet again, he laid back and pulled her over him.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" he said, lining his cock up but letting her decide how quickly he entered her.

His words drew a frown from her. "Did we do something wrong last time?" she asked and he chuckled, not minding the way the sound so quickly raised her ire.

"Normally, it would last a bit longer." Her lips shaped a silent 'Oh', and then she bit her lip as she sank down onto him. Her eyes closed and for a long moment she did not move at all, looking like she was getting used to the sensation of him inside her. Then a slow smile spread across her lips, right before she started to move, little experimental things at first, but after just a few strokes, she was riding him hard, her head thrown back and moans spilling from her lips.

Severus did not worry about hurting her this time – he thrust up into her, matching her pace, plunge for frantic plunge, loving every second of the wild pleasure, right up to the moment she jerked and lost control, coming with an open mouthed shout. He rolled them then, drawing out her orgasm with a few well-timed snaps of his hips before he lost himself in her.

Just a short time later he saw the light of questions in her eyes again, the green trained on his Mark – distracting her with sex proved more and less effective than he hoped. It worked quickly and easily, silencing whatever curiosity she kept dragging up, but as soon as they finished and caught their breath, her mind clearly went straight back to whatever it was she wanted to know. She was tenacious, but the potion worked in his favor at diverting her.

He took her from behind, took her with her legs thrown over his shoulders, and took her laying on their sides. She rode him sitting on the mattress, in his chair, reverse in both places. He even turned the mattress back into his desk at one point and took her bent over it, telling himself it was _not_ because he wanted to think of this night every time he sat to do paperwork.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning – or the very late hours of the night – the stamina of the potion seemed to be wearing off, because when he tucked Harry against him after another round, she stayed there – a few minutes later, when her breathing had evened out and she still had not moved, Severus lifted his head off the pillow to look at her and realized she had finally fallen asleep.

For a long moment, he lay propped up on his elbow, just watching her and trying very hard not to think. Because if he thought, he knew that he would think about things he wanted, things that were not meant to be, and that would not be any way to end the night. At the end of the long moment, he leaned over Harry, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and settled himself into the position of 'big spoon', wrapped around her.

The one thought he allowed himself before he slipped into slumber was simple: he wished that he could keep this woman in his life, as he had been unable to keep her mother – wished for happiness he knew he had no right to.

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 **A/N: Does smut get reviews? Fluff? Angst? Eh.**


	2. An Encounter with Granger

**A/N: A 632 word drabble (can that word still be used, since it's over 100 words? Less than a thousand though. Fic-let? Flash fiction? Something?). More fluffy and feel-y than smutty, but hope you enjoy nonetheless. The characters are obvious.**

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In the library, Hermione Granger slumped back on the table, chest heaving as she struggled to get her breath. Above her, hands braced on either side of her shoulders, stood Draco Malfoy, also gasping for air. After a moment, their eyes met and in unison they flushed and looked away – yet Malfoy did not pull out of her, and Hermione made no motion to pull back or push him away either.

Eventually, Malfoy cleared his throat as he let himself down onto his forearms, bringing his face close to hers and dropping his head so his blonde hair drifted across the skin of her neck.

"I would say that I'd kill Weasley for this..." he started, and she snorted, interjecting before he could finish.

"Not if I kill him first," she declared, raising her hands unconsciously, about to comb them through his hair, only to catch herself half-way and hesitate – and then do it anyway. ( _What? His hair is soft!_ Hermione thought to herself.)

Malfoy huffed a laugh, his body relaxing further as he let himself lay against her more fully. She could feel the heat of him through the robes that still half-clothed them – aside from where nakedness had been absolutely necessary, of course.

"What I was _saying_ , Granger," he drawled, amusement clear in his voice, "is that I _would_ say that I'd kill Weasley..." She felt his head turn, his lips pressing a light kiss against her neck as his arms slid under her, pulling her even closer, and her heart, having just calmed to something normal, skipped a beat and started to race once more.

"But this – you – I think it's exactly what I needed."

Hermione found herself swallowing a lump in her throat, her eyes burning for some reason, a reason she did not want to look at too closely, considering who this was – maybe it was something in the air – maybe it was the softness in his voice, the way he was holding her, their bodies so close – maybe it was some effect of the lust potion that had been in the chocolate. Whatever it was, she wrapped her arms around him, just holding him for a long, long moment, her fingers moving comfortably – perhaps comfortingly? – through his hair.

When she trusted her voice again, she found she could not come up with anything to say. Hermione Granger, master of words, at a loss for them – it was a strange moment indeed. Finally, instead of speaking she brought her legs up slowly, wrapping around and tugging his hips hard against hers – they both gasped as his half-erect cock surged through her drenched walls. Licking her lips, Hermione met his grey eyes when he pulled his head back to look at her, obviously startled, and spoke the words she had found. "Then we should make the most of this time, shouldn't we?"

She wasn't sure what he might have seen on her face – some attempt at seduction, uncertainty, determination, or maybe some form of understanding – but whatever it was, it made him smile. A sinful, satisfied smile that lit his eyes with what she thought he might have found in hers, before his gaze dropped to their still almost fully clothed bodies.

With deceptive nonchalance, Draco shifted onto an elbow and brought one hand to the top of her robes, long, nimble fingers slowly toying with the fastening there – she could feel his dick growing back to full hardness within her once more. "I think..." he said, his voice like dripping honey, that drawl of his seductive instead of sneering, "that we should be a little more... naked," his digits pulled the closure open and moved down to the next, "if we continue, wouldn't you say?"

 _Wicked_. Her returning smile was positively wicked. "Oh, I would certainly say."

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 **A/N: Dramione. Review? :)**


	3. An Encounter with Longbottom

**A/N: So I don't think this counts as a drabble? It's over 2k words.**

 **Anyway, for your reading pleasure, may I present (per my bestie's request) Neville Longbottom and (for my own amusement, heavily influenced by the liking of Slytherin girls I got from reading works by ff author provocative envy - who is awesome, btw, definitely worth looking at) Daphne Greengrass's Adventures in the Broom Closet?**

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Staring down at the top of Daphne Greengrass's blonde head, Neville wondered how on earth his life had taken such a sharp turn that he found himself pressed into the corner of a broom closet, his knees weak as the Slytherin girl sucked on his cock. (Her _mouth_... Neville would have thought maybe he had died and this was Heaven, but if that was the case, he probably would not be getting a blow-job from Daphne Greengrass – he figured his Heaven would be a little more mundane, like maybe being buried up to his elbows in plants and dirt in the greenhouses. As far as Heavens went, though... this was fairly fantastic. And completely unexpected, which somehow made it even better.)

He had been walking toward the infirmary, feeling a bit out of sorts and then… It had all happened so quickly – bumping into a girl he barely knew, the stammered apology – the _kissing_ …

Suddenly, Daphne hummed – or maybe she moaned; all he was aware of was the vibration – and instantaneously his train of thought was obliterated, every muscle in his body seizing as he struggled not to blow his load in his classmate's mouth. He _barely_ succeeded, especially when she took her mouth from him, the suction making a wet _pop_ as his head came out.

"Oh Merlin..." he breathed, and the Slytherin huffed a quiet laugh.

"Try not to invoke the name of a bearded old man while I'm blowing you, alright Longbottom?" Daphne said, her light-colored eyes – he couldn't figure out if they were grey or blue or green in the dim lighting – dancing with amusement that did nothing to hide the lust in them.

"Er... ah... yes, of course," he stumbled in reply, feeling his face heat and his pulse race as she palmed his shaft, turning her gaze to it instead of him. He wasn't sure he if he should be grateful for that or not.

"It's alright, Neville," she said, wrapping her fingers around him and taking advantage of the saliva left there to give his dick a few experimental tugs. He sucked in a breath and forced his mind onto plant classifications to keep from exploding all over her face. Merlin, if he'd known how good this sort of thing felt, he would have... well he probably would not have done anything, so it was probably better that he had not known what he was missing.

At least, not until now. Merlin! He tried and failed to bite back a groan as Daphne flicked her tongue out over his head, fucking _humming_ again as she collected the pre-cum leaking from his tip. He would die – she would kill him – he would die in an agony of pleasure, and he could not be sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"You know, when I tried this before, this stuff just tasted sort of salty." She paused to lick him again, this time taking his head in her mouth and giving it a hard suck, running her tongue all over him like she was enjoying a lollipop and not a _penis_. "But _you_ , Neville – may I call you Neville?" She turned her face up at him and he nodded, almost frantically, and lost what breath he'd gotten when she grinned at him – it was beautiful, and sinful, and fucking _perfect_ , Merlin, he was going to die – and said, "Good; you can call me Daphne then," and turned her eyes back to his cock.

"You taste like cocoa. Your mouth was like mint chocolate, and now your dick," her cheeks got a little flushed when she said the word, a flush that was utterly endearing to Neville for whatever reason – he was not thinking about why he found things cute, not with her eyeing his prick like that, "tastes like pure hot chocolate. And I'll have you know... I _love_ hot cocoa.

"What I really want to find out now, Neville," her eyes met his, and he knew, absolutely fucking _knew_ that he was a goner, because her gaze was _wicked_ with intent, and he knew exactly what she was going to say before she said it.

"I'd really like to know if your come tastes like chocolate too."

"Oh Merlin..." he breathed again, and she _laughed_ , right before she opened her mouth and wrapped those gorgeous lips around him again, and her _tongue_ , her fucking tongue was fucking _magic_ , and – _Merlin's beard!_ – she knew _exactly_ how to use her _teeth_ , and how to suck just right, and – and –

When Neville's mind slowly returned from its state of whited-out bliss, he found himself slumped halfway to the floor, Daphne smirking and licking her lips while she sat back on her heels with her hands on her knees. She looked so much like a cat who had gotten the cream over giving _him_ the best fucking orgasm of his life – Neville could not resist.

Acting almost instinctively as he reached out, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her lips to his, enjoying the startled widening of her eyes before he tasted her again – the flavor of chocolate now mixed with his favorite mint ( _how the fuck did that happen?_ ). And she just sat there for a surprised second before she responded, throwing her arms around him, practically climbing into his lap and kissing him back with equal fervor.

(He had a moment to think to himself that it was a very good thing Hogwarts had some abnormally large broom closets, and that they happened to be by one when… well, he _still_ wasn't sure what had happened, but it had ended up like this, and this was definitely the time of his life.)

There was a mad scramble at their clothing, a frantic desire to feel skin on skin - hers was smooth and creamy beneath his calloused fingertips, with pale pink nipples that, when he ran his thumbs over them, tightened and darkened, his actions making Daphne gasp and shiver in delight before she would kiss him harder, her nails dragging against his back – especially when he brought his mouth down on them. That drove her wild, leaving her moaning and gasping his name, murmuring "Yes, yes," over and over again – and every inch of her tasted minty, delicious and cool under his tongue, the flavor exploding in his mouth when he had worked his way down to the spot between her legs and lapped up her juices.

When he sucked on the little nub there, she clutched at his head with not just her fingers but her thighs as well, holding him there as she screamed his name and jerked against his mouth. And even though she had squashed his ears, he was grinning when she relaxed, mostly, and he could move up her body to look into her dazed eyes.

He loved that she flushed when her gaze met his and even her mutter of "Don't get too cocky, Longbottom," made him laugh, doing absolutely nothing to wipe the smile from his face, _especially_ since she did not hesitate to kiss him back when he lowered his head to kiss her.

When he shifted though, laying his body between her legs, and his prick pressed against her inner thigh, he felt her relaxation and her welcoming embrace stiffen, tension suddenly radiating from her. Immediately he pulled back, looking down at Daphne with a question in his eyes – one he did not have to voice for her to understand, though her gaze met his only briefly.

"I've never actually had sex," she said, her voice trying to be very blunt, but Neville could hear the quiver that said she was nervous – he was a little surprised by that statement, after what they had done so far, but what his mind automatically focused on was that quiver.

"Neither have I," said Neville, trying to be reassuring, and ducked his head when Daphne gave him a look that was somehow fond and conveyed the sentiment of 'no duh' perfectly – well, he supposed it was fairly obvious.

"I know that Neville."

"Er, right."

She made no move, not to push him away, and did not say anything, but nor would she meet his eyes again and she did not pull him closer. After a moment of uncertainty, Neville sat up, away from her, and was rewarded with Daphne's startled light eyes darting to his. "We don't have to, you know," he said, frowning when she laughed incredulously – and _bitterly_. That stung.

"Neville, haven't you realized?" Daphne said, sitting up as well – Neville would have mentally congratulated himself for not looking down at her breasts as she did so, but he was still fixed on the expression on her face and the tone of her voice to pay the attention a teenage boy ought to pay to a pair of naked tits.

"Realized what?"

Daphne's exasperated expression melted to uncertainty in the face of his sincere ignorance, and she rubbed her lips together before licking them, a nervous gesture that just made him want to kiss her again.

"Neville..." she began slowly. "Did anyone give you something? Something... edible? Or a drink? That you... _consumed_ right before we ran into each other?"

"No..." Neville started to say, only to stop himself before finishing the 'n' sound and remembering – "Ginny gave me a chocolate she got from Lavender. I think… she said Lavender got them from Ron who... got them from Fred and George..."

Neville's grandmother might not think of him as having much wit, but he was not at all slow, and a moment later he groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

"Yes," Daphne said, her voice dark. "We've been drugged."

"A lust potion?" Neville asked, his voice muffled by his hands.

"Yes. Though I don't know what kind. So I don't know the effects. Just... if it is a lust potion, I doubt you'll be able to stop yourself." Then she snorted. " _I_ wasn't able to stop _myself_ from snatching out your cock and stuffing it in my mouth. And I know I didn't consume anything. So we're going to have sex, because I'm not leaving this closet until I'm sure the potion's worn off of both of us. Alright?"

"Alright."

Neville, who had not been thinking much at all since he had bumped into Daphne and they had pulled each other into this closet, suddenly felt rather like a very large arse. A feeling that inspired a need to apologize – this was all his fault.

"I'm sorry, Daphne."

Daphne looked at him with an expression that he could not quite decipher – it seemed parts suspicious, confused, and… intrigued? Slytherins were a complicated bunch to read, he thought. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Neville."

"But I do," he said, voice earnest as he leaned toward her, and he watched her eyes dart down his body, pupils dilated, before she yanked them back to his face – the potion's effects? This was not right – it was not fair that his actions had forced this on her. "If I hadn't eaten that chocolate, we wouldn't be in this – and I _shouldn't_ have eaten that chocolate, because Ginny told me where they came from, and I _know_ what Fred and George are capable of –"

"Neville," Daphne interrupted, putting her hand over his mouth to silence him when he looked ready to continue on without letting her speak. She waited a moment to ensure he would not talk over her, then took her hand from his mouth. He almost wanted to lick it as she pulled away – but refrained, trying to concentrate on her words instead and ignore what he now realized was the tainted chocolate's influence.

"While it is very sweet of you to try to apologize for something that is not your fault – yes, you ate the chocolate, but to be fair, the Weasley twins, from what I know, do not have anything in their arsenal of pranks involving sex, so the worst you might have expected was puking or some sort of nosebleed. So please – stop trying to take the blame. It's very Gryffindor of you, and kind of cute, but absolutely unnecessary. Leave the blame where it belongs – with the Weasleys for cooking up the lust potion, for giving tainted chocolates to Brown, and for giving them to you."

Neville opened his mouth, about to protest, but then he thought better of it, closing his mouth and smiling a little instead. "That's very… Slytherin of you," he said, amused, and was rewarded with Daphne's smirk.

"Of course," she responded smoothly. "Slytherins are very good at putting the blame where it belongs."

Neville laughed again and noticed the way Daphne's mouth twitched up at the corner and her eyes softened at the sound – did lust potions inspire that, or was that real? He wondered, but then decided maybe he did not want to know – for now, this was nice.

But there was still the issue of the sex – and the way Daphne seemed not at all comfortable with the idea, even if she tried for nonchalance. "Um… do you think that maybe… you would be more… er… or less opposed _maybe_? If you were… on top? Like… maybe it would help you to feel in control?"

She stared at him incredulously for a moment before her eyes got all soft again, and he felt a little mushy inside himself (though not his dick – that was still hard enough to ache a bit) at the expression.

"You're a really nice guy, you know that?" She went up on her knees, edging toward him, and took his face in her hands as she nudged him into a position similar to hers. "I think I actually like that about you." His hands came up to cup her face and he smiled back at her, right before she slanted her lips over his and he was once more lost in the taste and feel of this girl.

Virgin they both may have been – but when they snuck out of the closet early the next morning, glancing furtively around to make sure no one saw them, Neville thought they probably could have written a book on the subject of sex. Each. He was a little proud of that fact.

He was _more_ proud of the way he had asked Daphne to join him on the next Hogsmeade weekend – and not even almost running right into Filch on his way back to Gryffindor tower could wipe the smile off his face. Not when it was from her saying _yes_.

* * *

 **A/N: And there's that. Fluffy, smutty goodness. Review? ;)**


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